Chapter Five: Planning to Leave
"Want some tea, Gandalf?" Frodo asked stupidly, as he was drinking his seventh cup of tea.
Gandalf stopped bashing his head against the wall and said, "This is no time for tea!"
"Yes it is. Look at the clock, it's tea time!"
Gandalf rolled his eyes. "Frodo, we're supposed to be talking about the One Tater." He then went into a brief history about Farmer Sauron and the creation of the tater, up to the point where it fell into the hands of Thingum.
Frodo sat slumped in his chair, snoring every now and then. Gandalf sighed in irritation and rapped Frodo on the head with his staff.
"Eh?" Frodo moaned. He looked at the wizard who sat opposite him. "Gandalf! What a surprise! Have some tea!" He then poured himself a cup of tea, which happened to be his twelfth cup.
"I don't want any tea, you fool!"
"Suit yourself," said Frodo. He gulped down the contents of his cup and poured himself another.
"Frodo, you must leave the Pretty Green Secluded Area."
Frodo set down his cup and burst into tears. "But I love the Pretty Green Secluded Area! It's so pretty! And green! And secluded!"
"You have to leave, or Farmer Sauron will find the tater and he'll take it from you!"
"No! Anything but that!" Frodo hugged his tater tightly.
"You must sell your house, get your sorry little buttocks out of here, go to the village of Beer, and protect that tater with your very life!"
"Okay, I'll leave," Frodo agreed with a sigh.
Suddenly, there was a mysterious noise that sounded like a cross between a constipated bird and somebody choking to death.
"Eep!" cried Frodo. "What was that!" He set down his teacup (which contained his seventeenth cup of tea) and hid under the table.
"I'll catch him!" Gandalf said.
"You can't catch me, I'm the gingerbread man!" said the mysterious noise.
Gandalf ran over to the window, pulled up Sam, and performed various cheesy looking wrestling moves on him.
Sam looked terrified out of what little wits he had. "What in the name of cabbages was that all about!"
"Sam!" said Frodo.
"Mr. Frodo!" cried Sam.
"Sam!"
"Mr. Frodo!"
"Sam!"
"Mr. Frodo!"
"Sam!"
"Alright, that's enough!" Gandalf interrupted. He turned to look at Sam. "What were you doing and why are you here?"
"I'm a plot device!" Sam replied cheerfully.
"You're going to have to go with Frodo on his journey. You can carry all of his stuff!"
"Um, okay," said Sam rather reluctantly.
"You might as well start packing, Frodo," Gandalf advised.
"Okay," said Frodo. He opened up a cupboard to get some clothes and gasped, "Bilbo's chandelier! And it's broken! However did it get here!"
Gandalf looked very uneasy and hastily shut the cupboard. "You're hallucinating, you fool! Now I really must be going. I have to go see the head of my order, Skittleman the Many Colored."
"BUT YOU'VE ONLY JUST ARRIVED!" cried Frodo, looking at Gandalf with pathetic, tear-filled eyes.
"Yes, well, I'm leaving," Gandalf said. He took a step, looked down, and saw that Frodo had attached himself to his leg. "FRODO, GET OFF OF ME!"
"Don't leave me, Gandalf!" cried Frodo.
Gandalf shook Frodo off of his leg and got out of there as fast as he could.
"Looks like it's just you and me, Mr. Frodo," said Sam, grinning. Frodo started to edge slowly away from him.
Frodo then continued to live in his Hob Hillock, living his life the way he always had. He knew that he should be leaving soon, but he was simply far too lazy.
"I am simply far too lazy," sighed Frodo, as he looked at the pile of packed bags that had sat waiting by the door for several weeks.
"Laziness is the root of all evil!" shrieked an irritating voice. Lobelia Sackville-Baggins had poked her highly unattractive head in Frodo's window.
"What are you doing here, you hag?" Frodo demanded.
"What's with all those packed bags? Are you going somewhere?"
"Um, yes, actually," Frodo said hesitantly. "I'm moving!"
"Moving? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard of! Why would you move?"
"Er, I've developed an allergy to my Hob Hillock and must buy a new one! Now get out of my house!"
"Fine!" Lobelia disappeared and hurried to her own Hob Hillock, where her husband Otho and her son Lotho were looking rather dismayed.
"What's the matter?" Lobelia asked.
"Lotho's broken another mirror again!" Otho complained, gesturing at the broken shards of glass. "That poor mirror just couldn't stand the sight of his hideous face, and so it just broke without warning!"
Lotho blushed with embarrassed, which only made him look even more unsightly.
"Guess what?" Lobelia asked.
"You're finally taking us all in for face-lifts and plastic surgery?" Otho asked hopefully.
"No! Frodo Baggins is selling his Hob Hillock!"
"Oh really?" Otho gave an ugly grin, which caused Lobelia to give an ugly grin, which caused Lotho to give an ugly grin, which caused all of the house plants to wilt and die because they could not stand to be around so much ugliness.
Otho, still grinning hideously, glanced at himself in the glass of the kitchen window. The next moment, he was sprawled dead in his chair.
Lobelia studied his body and shook her head. "He must have seen his reflection."
"Are we still getting a new house?" Lotho asked.
"Of course!" answered Lobelia. "And now that your father's gone, there will be more space for us!"
The very next day, everyone in Hobton knew that Frodo was selling his Hob Hillock to the Sackville-Bagginses, and that he was moving.
"Moving? Now I'm going to be unemployed!" said the Gaffer, with tears in his eyes.
Sam patted his father sympathetically on the back. "It's alright, Gaffer. Now you'll be able to devote one hundred percent quality time to the cabbages and carrots!"
Frodo now had no choice but to finally leave. Sam, Merry, and Pippin had come over to his Hob Hillock to help him out with everything.
"Here, Sam, will you load these onto that wagon?" Frodo said. He picked up several large, heavy bags and shoved them all into Sam's arms.
"Uh..." Sam began, but suddenly became short of breath due to the weight he was carrying.
Merry opened one of the cupboards. "What's with the broken chandelier?"
Frodo went over to take a look. "It really does exist! But Gandalf told me I was hallucinating!" He took the broken chandelier pieces and tossed them out the window. Suddenly, an "Ow!" could be heard from outside.
Frodo went over to the window and saw Sam, who was loading the bags into the wagons, rubbing his aching head. "Sorry, Sam!" he called. Sam moaned in reply.
Frodo surveyed his Hob Hillock. "I think the place is empty!"
"It'd better be!" said an irritating voice. Lobelia Sackville-Baggins had barged right into the house, without even asking.
"Get outta my house!" Frodo snapped.
"But it's my house now!" Lobelia argued. "Along with Bilbo's prized eggs!"
"No, actually, I gave all the eggs to the Gaffer," Frodo informed her.
"Mr. Baggins is such a kindhearted soul!" the Gaffer exclaimed, while carrying a large basket of eggs. He gave the eggs an affectionate smile.
"NOOOOOOOO!" Lobelia screeched. "Without those eggs, I have nothing to live for now!"
"Does that mean you're going to suddenly and conveniently drop dead?" Frodo asked hopefully.
Lobelia laughed. "No way! Besides, I've got this nice Hob Hillock to enjoy my life in!"
Frodo pushed her towards the door. "Well, could you please leave now? We're trying to take care of some last minute things."
"Fine then!" said Lobelia. "But I'll be back! I'll get you, my pretty, and your little house too!" She grabbed her umbrella and stumbled out the door and went outside, where a group of young Hob children laughed and threw sticks at her.
Frodo burst into tears. "My poor Hob Hillock! How will it ever survive!"
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